Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 21:47:21 EDT
From: That's The Way I Like It <bsb_stories@hotmail.com>
Subject: gay/celebrity/boy-bands/fitting-in/  Fitting In Chapter 3

I'm back!  Thanks to everybody who's written to me with
feedback on this and my other two stories on Nifty,
"Changes" and "By My Side."  I really appreciate every
comment and suggestion!  A reminder, this is a Backstreet
Boys/'N Sync crossover story, and in this one, they are
not in "vocal harmony groups" and I have changed many
important details about their backgrounds.  I hope you like.

As always, don't read if you have a problem with gay sex.
It's just fiction.  Don't worry ... in reality, they're all
devout virgins, saving themselves just for you.  ;-)


CHAPTER THREE

"I'm trying to change to a different dorm room," Howie said,
following Nick's eyes as he glared across at his boyfriend,
who was chatting up the sweet young thing Howie had come in
with.  "Who were you stuck with again?" Nick asked without
looking at Howie, gulping down his third cup of beer.  "A.J.
McLean.  You know him.  He's a complete freak."  "Doesn't
ring a bell."  "Nicky, he's been in school with us for
years..."  Howie gave up on trying to get sympathy from his
old friend, who was clearly preoccupied with some lovers'
spat he was having with Lance.  Instead, Howie allowed
himself to scan Nick's tall, well-proportioned body, his
high, round butt and long powerful legs, his well-shaped
hands and his full, pouting lips.  Howie let out a small
sigh at the impossibility of his attraction to Nicky
Carter.  The gorgeous blonde would *never* be interested
in him "that way."  Joey Fatone approached the pair of
them with a curious look on his face.  Why were his buds
looking so down?  It was the first party of the new
school year.  Normally everybody was bragging about their
summers.  "Hey Nicky," Joey said, laying a heavy arm over
his shoulders.  "Howie."  "Huh," they both grunted back.

Somehow, Justin had been slowly inched back as he talked
to Lance, and he was in a back corner of the cellar,
almost a cubby, mostly hidden from the rest of the open
floor space.  It was hard to control his excitement; not
only was Lance talking to him, and only to him, he seemed
to be openly flirting.  Lance leaned one arm on the wall
next to Justin and gave him a quick visual once-over.
Their conversation continued in fits and starts, pausing
occasionally as they gave each other meaningful looks.
It was clear that Lance liked to be in control of things,
but Justin didn't feel intimidated by him.  It was too
erotic to be irritating.  "Basketball, huh," Lance smiled.
"That's great.  So exciting to watch.  I'm not so good at
it myself.  You'll have to give me lessons."  "That could
be fun," Justin smiled back.  "A little one-on-one."
"Oh yes," Lance smirked, "an excellent idea."  He traced
his fingers down the wall and moved closer still.  There
was nowhere left for Justin to move.  "I'll have to come
up with a way to pay you back," Lance half-whispered.
"Maybe there's something I can teach you."  Justin didn't
care if the lines were cheesy; he wanted this.  He closed
his eyes and felt Lance's lips brush against his.  Justin
slid one hand around Lance's waist and drew the blonde
close; he lost himself in the kiss, swirling his tongue
against Lance's and feeling the sexual rush lift him out
of his surroundings.  They were both so wrapped up in
what they were doing that they didn't notice a slight
stir at the other end of the room, as J.C. made his
presence known.

J.C. had seen enough from his position crouched outside
one of the back windows with Kevin.  Lance was up to his
usual shenanigans, toying with some poor underclassman,
and it seemed like the perfect moment to come waltzing
back in to Clarkville Academy.  J.C. trotted around to
the secret entrance and slid himself in.  He decided not
to delay the suspense, and walked right over to his arch-
enemy, who was sitting on the couch sucking down beer
and looking like a beaten puppy.  The ever-alert Howie
noticed him first, and let out a gasp which silenced the
entire room.  Nick choked on his drink.  "Greetings,
blondie," J.C. smirked.  "We meet again."  Nick gaped at
him stupidly.  "What are you doing here?" Howie yelped.
"Josh Chasez," Joey said, a hand on each hip.  "You've
sure got balls showing your face around here."  "Oh
please," J.C. said.  "As if any of you even believe the
crap that this airhead" - he waved a hand dismissively
at Nick - "cooked up."  "Look, I don't want to hear it,"
Joey said belligerently.  "You don't come in here and
mess with my friends."  "Yeah," Howie said, sort of out
loud.  "Nick's the one who was slinging the mud," J.C.
said with a shrug.  "But I guess he didn't care enough
about Lance to try and protect his reputation when he
was trashing mine."  "You don't know what the fuck
you're talking about," Nick scowled, standing up
unsteadily.  He wasn't much of a drinker, and the beer
had made him very woozy.  "Don't listen to him," he
said generally, waving his arms around wildly, "he's a
liar!  And a boyfriend stealer, too!"

J.C. laughed.  "Go take a cold shower, you lightweight."
He was about to turn around to look for Lance when he found
himself eye to eye with Joey.  "This is my party," Joey
said, "and I'm asking you to leave.  I'm asking you
nicely the first time."  "Fine," J.C. shrugged.  He turned
around to give his parting blow to Nick.  "Tell Lance I'm
waiting for his call.  I mean, if you even get to sleep
with him tonight."  He strutted back to the window,
turned on his heel, and stuck his tongue out at all
of them.  "Whatever!" Howie said, rolling his eyes.  "He
is *so* immature."  He heard a loud sniffling sound, and
turned around to see that Nick had curled up into a
little ball on the couch and was starting to cry.  "Oh!
Nicky!"  Howie looked around the room nervously.  This
was all so embarrassing... He patted Nick on the shoulder
timidly.  "Asshole," Nick moaned.  "I'm sorry!  I was
only trying to help!"  "He means J.C.," Joey said, doing
his best not to laugh.  "Come on, D, help me bring Nicky
over to the bedroom.  Somebody had a few too many beers
tonight."  Howie nearly had a heart attack at the concept
of being in a bedroom with Nick and was all too eager to
assist with this task.  "Okay, you take off his shoes,"
Joey said once they had Nick on the bed, "I'll go get
a bucket or a trash can or something."  "What for?"
Howie asked, contemplating how to get Nick's shoes off
without offending him.  "Hehe, funny," Joey said, and
he left.  Howie shrugged.  Why a bucket?  Odd.  He
methodically loosened the laces on Nick's shoes, but
jerked away when he heard the blonde moan again.  "Are
you okay, Nicky?"  "What're you doin'?" Nick mumbled
irritably.  "I was ah, taking your shoes off, so you'll
be more comfortable."  "Ohhh," Nick replied.  Howie
sat on the bed, without the nerve to say anything more
or touch him again.  "You're a nice friend," Nick said
at last.  "Oh... Thanks."  Howie blushed.  "Hey Howie?"
"Yes?  Nicky?"  "I kinda think I'm gonna barf..."

Lance squeezed Justin's ass and kissed him on the lips.
"Hang on one second," he said.  "I am just going to check
on something."  Justin nodded, his face flushed and his
cargo pants bulging.  "Don't go anywhere," Lance smirked,
adjusting his own bits and pieces as he trotted over to
find his boyfriend.  A quick scan of the main room didn't
contain Nick, and Joey came over when he saw Lance
standing by the couch looking confused.  "He's in the
bedroom," Joey said darkly.  "Oh really," Lance frowned.
"With who, might I ask?"  "Howie," Joey said, folding his
arms across his chest.  "Howie ... DOROUGH?"  If Lance
had been drinking, it would have sprayed out of his nose.
Thankfully he was not drinking.  "Yeah," Joey said, "now
listen Lance.  He's-"  "I don't want to hear it!" Lance
said loudly.  He could feel his face turning red.  "No,
you don't understand!  He was upset because-"  "Just
forget it," Lance said dramatically.  "I'm leaving, and
I'm taking Justin with me!"  "Oh, for goodness..."  Joey
wiped his hands over his face, and then decided to go
and talk to some other people for a change and take a
nice big step away from the land of Lance and Nick.  In
the meantime, Lance hurried back over to Justin and
grabbed him by the hand.  "Come on, let's get out of
here," he said.  Justin didn't need to be asked twice,
and he followed Lance out of the cellar and across the
athletic fields to the dorm where Lance lived.  On the
way over, they were quiet, both of them trying to sort
through a few things in their heads.

What are you doing, Justin was asking himself.  Sure,
you like this guy, and you want him, but do you really
want to just hop into bed with him?  After all, he told
himself with a blush, it's not like you have any real
experience.  You will probably make a fool out of yourself.
Lance seemed so worldly and sophisticated to Justin.  At
the same time, Lance was thinking angry thoughts about
his dear sweet boyfriend.  What was Nick's problem?  He
was acting so strange about this thing with Justin.
They'd played this game before.  So why was Nick making
trouble?  He was supposed to be involved tonight, not
running off with Howie, of all people.  At some level,
Lance knew that it wasn't right to toy with people's
emotions, although he had no idea that it upset Nick.
But manipulating people made Lance feel like he was
controlling some small part of the universe.  Otherwise,
he was nothing at all, powerless and weak.  Lance hated
feeling that way.  That was why Nick was so perfect for
him.  Nick always let Lance take control; he got off on
it just as much as Lance liked to be the dominant partner.
It was meant to be.  So why was Nick behaving like such
a baby?  Well, at least Nick wasn't screwing around with
Kevin.  Lance wasn't threatened by Howie, that was for
sure.

"I'm going to use the little boys' room," Lance said to
Justin as he switched on the light.  "Be right back."
"Okay," Justin said, his voice sounding scratchy and
almost breaking.  He sat gingerly on the edge of the
huge bed which dominated Lance's room.  There were a
few artifacts of academic life here and there; a stack of
textbooks, a miniscule, extremely chic laptop, and a little
wire cup full of what appeared to be freshly sharpened,
probably never-used, number two pencils.  How quaint, Justin
smiled.  He padded over to the stereo and turned it on; a
mellow kind of bluesy jazz filled the room.  The room
smelled faintly of cologne.  Justin's heart was racing
with the excitement of it all.  A couple of family
pictures in silver frames beckoned, and Justin snuck a
peek.  To his surprise, no moms or grandmas or bratty
younger siblings populated the pictures.  They were all
of Lance and another blonde teenage boy, with silly grins
on their faces in one picture, and posed with their arms
around one another in the other.  Justin jumped back
nervously from the photographs when Lance re-entered the
room.  "What are you looking at, sweetie?" Lance murmured,
slipping his arms around Justin's waist and kissing his
neck, unconsciously repeating his actions with Nick earlier
that day.  "Just checking on how sharp your pencils are,"
Justin replied cockily, turning around to face Lance and
pulling him into a more erotic French kiss.  If that was
an ex, Justin thought to himself, he was definitely very
good-looking, but Justin planned to erase him from Lance's
memory banks that night.

Brian sat up in bed, irritated, and yanked on a pair of
shorts.  "I've gotta get some fresh air," he thought to
himself.  He wasn't able to sleep, and every time he checked
the time, he saw Justin's empty bed across the room from
him, the sheets rumpled and cold.  It was foolish to take it
personally, and the reasonable, logical part of Brian's mind
knew that, but the greater part of him was needy, hurting and
lonely, and every minor abandonment seemed to add to the pain
in his heart.  Five minutes later, Brian Littrell was jogging
down the wooded pathway, lit by the moon overhead.  He wanted
to keep moving and do so quickly and quietly, since campus
curfew didn't allow them to go wandering around at all hours
unless they had a damn good reason to do so.  The last thing
he needed was to start getting into it with the school
officials.  Finally, Brian got to the dirt road which led to
the highway.  If he walked nearly to the end of this road,
there was a convenience store which was theoretically open
all hours.  Brian figured he'd get a coke, maybe play a video
game, and then walk back.  So what if he was out in the middle
of nowhere, ripe for the plucking if any hungry bears or
pedophiles came out of the woods?  Brian figured his bad mood
would keep everybody smarter than a clod of dirt at a
respectful distance.  He marched along, his head down, until
he heard an obnoxious rumbling sound getting louder and louder.
It was unmistakeably a muffler-free motorcycle; what kind of
asshole is out riding a motorcycle around out here? Brian
asked himself.  I don't even want to think about it.  In a
matter of seconds, the bike was coming close enough that he
could see the rider.  A tall looking guy with a helmet on,
how nice, he won't get his brains splattered all over the
highway when he meets his inevitable gory fate, Brian thought.
The rider slowed the bike and pulled it around to a stop
beside him.  "Hey," he said, "ya need a ride somewhere?"

Things were moving very fast in Lance Bass' bedroom.  He and
Justin were in bed together, with the lights dimmed to one
soft bulb, clothes removed, hands running along each other's
bodies and lips tasting tender flesh, raising goose bumps as
well as the blood pressure in certain erogenous zones.  Justin
felt himself beginning to lose control, and he pulled back a
bit from Lance, keeping the blonde at arm's length.  It was
rather funny to see him with his eyes closed, trying to
pucker up and continue to plant little smooches on Justin's
chest, when he was too far away to reach.  Finally his pretty
green eyes were open, and Justin was greeted with a concerned
expression.  "Baby, what's wrong?  You don't like how I touch
you?"  He had a voice that could melt the underwear off a
nun, and Justin felt himself actually tremble whenever Lance
spoke.  "No, no, I like it, I just want to take things nice
and slow," Justin smiled widely.  People always complimented
him on his smile and on his deep blue eyes, and so he hoped
that Lance would respond to this direct frontral assault.  No
such luck.  Lance shimmied closer and ground his hips right
against Justin's erect cock.  "We got all night," Lance said,
and he licked his tongue very slowly across Justin's lips.
"Ohh," Justin moaned, scrunching his eyes tightly shut and
trying to picture his grandmother watering the flowers, in
the nude ... anything to keep his orgasm at bay!  Lance smiled
to himself; this boy was such a pushover.  So horny, and so
adorably inexperienced.  He was about to blow his wad and
Lance figured he'd make this fun, and prove to Justin that he
wasn't going to be able to control anything about their sexual
interactions.  "Just relax," Lance hummed in Justin's ear,
pressing a hand on either of the taller boy's shoulders to lie
him flat on his back.  Justin's cock stuck straight in the
air, bobbing slightly as he adjusted himself on the bed.  Lance
licked his lips.  It was a fat one, and he had a sudden urge to
swallow it, but he stuck to his plan of action, and instead,
he breathed out warm air on one of Justin's nipples, licked it
roughly to make it as wet as he could, and then pursed his
lips and blew another blast of air at it.  The alternating hot
and cold stimulation on Justin's very-over-stimulated self had
the exact effect Lance was hoping for.  The boy's eyes flew
open as he let out a loud groan and clutched at the sheets, his
dick volleying an impressive load of cum into the air.  Lance
sucked Justin's neck while the younger boy grabbed his pulsing
cock with one hand and pumped it as he shot several more times,
grunting and bringing his knees up, letting the warm sticky
fluid cover his chest.  "Oh god," Justin moaned, turning his
head to kiss Lance fiercely.  "Now who's moving too fast,"
Lance smirked as he pulled away, "you quick shooter, you..."

"So I guess you are the honourary class rebel," Brian smiled
at Kevin.  They were sitting together near the side of the road,
the motorcycle parked beside them.  "I guess you could say that,"
Kevin nodded.  "I just do my own thing.  I'm not really trying
to have a certain look or anything."  "I'm just teasing," Brian
shrugged.  "That's neat that you're from Kentucky too, though.
Who would have thought that was gonna happen."  "There are kids
here from all over, but mostly from the South," Kevin nodded.
"Hey, I'm just glad Mr. and Mrs. J didn't send me somewhere up
in New Eng-a-land or something," Brian grinned, purposely
exaggerating his drawl.  "Oh hell no," Kevin said, and they
both laughed.  "Seriously though, I've had my share of problems
with this place.  If it wasn't for my dad, I wouldn't even be
here."  "What do you mean?  He wants you to get into Harvard or
something?"  "He would have, yeah."  Brian leaned his head to
one side and studied Kevin.  The boy had a tough kind of look,
but his green eyes were moist and he bit his lip as he struggled
to keep himself together.  "When did he pass away?" Brian asked
more quietly.  "Just last year," Kevin half-whispered.  He
cleared his throat and then spoke more normally, "he had cancer.
We thought he had it beat, but it came back stronger the second
time.  It's a bitch..."  He picked up a twig and threw it
angrily into the road.  "I'm sorry, man," Brian said, and he
put an arm around Kevin's shoulders and let it rest there,
hoping to give him some creature comfort.  Kevin appreciated this
small gesture tremendously, and he shook his head in disbelief.
It was amazing how much difference a little bit of kindness makes
in a person's life.  "Were you and your dad real close?" Brian
asked softly, hugging Kevin to him just slightly.  "We were
real tight," Kevin said, fighting the tears back again.  "It's
so hard when your life gets split in two like that, when the
past is so... over."  "I hear you," Brian said, "believe me, I
hear you."

The longer that Justin was in Lance's bed, the more insistent
the little voices in his head became, rather than the other way
around.  Who was that guy in the picture?  Was Lance making fun
of him just a minute ago?  Was he being used?  Was he really
ready to be doing this?  Before he knew it, he was forced to
make a decision.  Justin found himself turned around in the
bed with Lance's cock against his face.  The older boy was
running his hands through Justin's unruly bunch of curly hair.
This boy was very cute, but Lance did really wish that Nick
could have been there.  Nick gave such amazing blow jobs.  He
pictured his boyfriend sucking him expertly, looking up at
him with love and humour in his eyes... A little pang struck
at Lance's heart; he missed his honey bunch pookie pie.  Well,
they'd have to work things out tomorrow.  Nick had some
explaining to do, after all.  Howie Dorough?  Lance shook his
head; this was not the time to think of Howie, who seemed to
function as a sort of anti-Viagra for him.  Instead, Lance
whispered to Justin, stroking his back.  "Don't you want to
taste me, baby?"  Justin stared at the erect penis.  He'd
never been that close to one before.  Even his own.  It was
a bit scary looking.  He'd made out with guys before and jerked
them off, but never given head.  I don't even know where to
begin, Justin said to himself.  Full of doubt, he shut his
eyes and opened wide.  Lance guided the head of his dick into
Justin's  mouth and let him adjust to the size of it.  But
Justin felt like he couldn't breathe, and in fact, violated.
This felt really wrong.  He backed away and turned himself
around so that he was facing Lance.  "I don't know if I'm ready
to do this," he said frankly, although his voice was timid.
"What?" Lance was taken aback.  "You're not ... ready?"  He
tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, but Justin was
already getting out of bed and picking his jeans up off the
floor.  "This is too weird for me.  I'm sorry.  Lance... I
just ... I can't."  Justin snatched up his shirt and shoes
and bolted, leaving Lance Bass, the master manipulator of
Clarkville, sitting there in shock with a massive boner and
only his five-fingered friends to take care of it.

Howie rolled over in bed, uncertain of where he was.  The
room didn't have the familiar scent of his own habitat,
and when he opened his eyes, he realised that he was still
in the cellar bedroom.  With Nicky Carter.  The blonde
was curled up against him, his face buried in the pillows,
sleeping peacefully.  Howie felt his morning wood pulse a
little harder.  Probably best to just pee and get it over
with, he told himself, and he got out of bed and stood for
what seemed to be an eternity in the bathroom before he
could relieve himself.  Howie walked back into the bedroom
and gazed at the young Adonis in repose.  This was probably
one of those occasions where he had some vague chance in
hell of making a move on Nick, if he had any clue how to
go about doing it.  He'd had them before.  Howie had known
Nicky since they were in elementary school.  He'd been very
much the same, he just didn't highlight his hair.  Howie
liked to think that he had changed dramatically, but aside
from getting contact lenses, he was probably very much the
same to his long-time crush.  The good thing about Nick was
that he was a very nice person.  He never brought up the
embarrassing things that Howie had done over the years, and
he always seemed to forgive the little indiscretions, like
the time Howie had come to visit Nick for a long weekend
many summers ago.  Nick's parents had a house on an island
in the Gulf of Mexico, and they had been left alone for the
day while Mr. and Mrs. Carter went off on some boat buying
expedition.  Nick liked to sleep late and Howie had sat
around fretting all morning, waiting for him to get up, and
had finally been discovered locked in a bathroom, sobbing,
because he'd prepared an elaborate brunch for Nick which had,
of course, gotten cold and/or burned while blondie lay there
snoring away.  Howie let out a plaintive little sigh.

"So did you have a good time last night?"  Justin didn't turn
around right away to answer Brian's loaded question.  He had
no idea what to say, in any case.  He shoved a baseball cap
on over his hair.  "I guess," he mumbled.  "So do you wanna
go down and grab some breakfast?"  "Yeah," Brian smiled.  "That
sounds great."  Brian wondered if he ought to tell Justin about
meeting Kevin.  Probably not, since he'd hinted pretty strongly
last night that he didn't really want Justin to go out, and then
he'd look like a jerk if he'd gone out anywhere.  Better to have
Justin think he was sitting around all night pining.  Or was it?
For his part, Justin figured that nobody needed to know about
his awkward encounter with Lance.  He hoped that by some strange
coincidence, he would never have to run into him for the rest of
the school year.  Wouldn't that be nice!  He was so hot, though...
The dining room seemed to be missing many people that morning,
although all the people who hadn't been invited to Joey's and
Lance's party were there.  Justin filled his plate from the
buffet and scanned the room for Brian.  His roommate was sitting
down with the strangest looking kid at Clarkville, A.J. McLean.
Justin had to smile to himself.  It was pretty clear that Brian
didn't care who the cool people were or if he was associating
with the right crowd.  So unpretentious.  "Good morning," Justin
smiled at A.J., who nodded, chewing.  He wasn't sure why the kid
needed to wear sunglasses indoors, but whatever.  "So I heard
you hooked up with Lance last night," A.J. said.  Justin managed
to choke on his orange juice and Brian had to hit him on the back
a few times before he got his throat and windpipe sorted out.
"Oh hey Kev," A.J. said to a tall guy who joined them at the
table.  "So I heard you and Bri got acquainted out in the woods
last night.  What's the 411?"  Brian and Justin stared at each
other across the table.  So much for discretion.